What are we going to do? - Johnlock
by FanGirl7359
Summary: John and Mary are going to get a divorce and secretly, Sherlock couldn't be more happy. But will Mary come back to haunt them? What will John do when he finds out how Sherlock feels? Find out!
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Sherlock's P.O.V

Sherlock paced the small room waiting for John to arrive. A creak from below signalled someone was on their way up the stairs. He heard a steady beat of shoes on wood but knew by the sound that it not John but indeed Ms. Hudson. He let out an annoyed sigh when she lightly knocked on the door. John said he would be here by three and it was already three-oh-two.

"Sherlock" Called Ms. Hudson from the door. She walked in with a small tray, two cups of tea and a small plate of biscuits on it. "Have you heard anything from John yet?" She set the tray on the kitchen table and walked to when Sherlock was still pacing.

"No, he must still be at the courthouse. The judge must be really trying to find a way to keep them together." John had finally confess to Mary the other day that he had no feelings towards her any more. She had been shocked with his outburst. In a fit of rage and shock, she had punched him squarely in the face. That night she had disappeared for 3 days and when she returned alcohol on her breath, she had sat down with him and they had agreed to a divorce.

"It's a shame really" Ms. Hudson exclaimed when plonked herself down on John's chair. It always annoyed him with other people sat in John's armchair, the reason unknown to him."They seemed like such a lovely, happy couple." She said sadness almost drowning her words. "And Mary seemed such a lovely girl, I wonder what happened." She sighed as she stood once more. "You should have some tea, Sherlock it's good for the nerves." She grabbed the tray and put it on Sherlock's desk. She walked over to the door, looked back once then walked out the door. Sherlock suddenly stopped pacing and took a cup and saucer and sat down. He though about the conversation he and John had about 2 months ago. It felt like years ago but also felt like just minutes before.

John being John didn't talk about his feelings much but when he did, he talked about it all.

2 months before

"I just don't love her any more" John confessed. "It's like ever since I found out about her past, I can't look at her the same way"

"So you did read her file?" Sherlock asked. He wasn't that surprised as he had the suspicion. The way John held himself around Mary, like a soldier awaiting an ambush. Sherlock was still disappointed that when he first met Mary, he didn't pick out the obvious signs of an ex-agent but when thinking about John, well, that was the effect John could have on him. The though of this made Sherlock blush ever so slightly, a feeling he wasn't accustomed to. He quickly shook his head to get rid of the thoughts. When he looked back up, a confused John was looking at him, worry in his eyes. His eyes...

"Sherlock, are you alright?" John asked worry lacing his words.

"Yes, yes I'm fine, now you were saying?"

"I was telling you that since I read her file, I can't look at her in the same way."

"John did you ever really love her?" Sherlock asked a little spit of envy came out with the last word.

"I-I don't think so Sherlock, maybe I never loved her at all. I needed to fill the void you left in me when you... disappeared and... I guess she was the first person who could do a little of that for me."

Sherlock never would have though in his lifetime that he could have kind of effect on people never mind John. Oh John... The war hero, the doctor, the detectives best friend, his... friend. Oh how Sherlock though of John. The ways he wanted to be with John. He never told anyone about this not even Mycroft who knew most Sherlock's secrets. When Sherlock started to notice signs that John didn't love Mary any more he desperately, selfishly wanted it to be true. He desperately wanted John to love him and love him only because for Sherlock, John was the only man for him.

"Sherlock are you even listening?" John inquired. John looked so perfect there, in that moment. A small glimmer of hope bloomed in Sherlock and he knew that there may come a time when John could maybe feel the same way.

"Sorry John I was just lost in thought, start again."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

John's P.O.V

The moment John knew how he felt, he wanted to tell Sherlock everything. Since he had seen Mary's file, the feelings he once had for her, withered away like a flower during winter. It occurred to him that maybe he never really loved Mary, or now that he knew, he should probably call her by her real name, Alanna Grace Rose Aitken, born and raised in Broxburn, Scotland. She went to normal schools like any other girl but when she grew up, she went elsewhere. Joined the CIA at only 19 years of age. Trained for two years and became a field agent, specialising in assassinations. She was send all over the world tracking, torchering and killing people left right and centre. She did this for four years then she went rouge. Disappearing off the face of the Earth, Alanna Aitken ceased to exist.

He looked at her now from across the room. The divorce felt like forever but it shouldn't have been for then twenty minutes. She looked back at him and with they're eyes met, he saw sadness there. A kind of sadness not many people feel. He frowned in though and looked away, back at the judge who was reading they're statement. He seemed to be taking forever. Reading and re-reading the statement. He peaked back at Mary and there she was, staring at him, but this time no sadness was in her gaze any more. This stare was deep and cold cold, filled with hatred and loathing. He quickly turned away again. If looks could kill, he would have been murdered.

"Alright" said the judge, his words cutting the silence like a knife. "Everything seems to be in order. You are now officially divorced. I hope you both have a happy life apart." The judge said with a tight lipped smile. He rose, us in toe, and he stepped out of the room. My lawyer and I shook hands then I went over to the table where our forms where resting. Mary was standing there, watching me. Now that I knew she was an ex-agent. I noticed the small details like the automatic calculations she made made in her head about peoples weak points and how much of an easy target they were. She must do this without evening noticing because a split second later, she looked away and turned to face the files.

"It's done then." Was all she said before picking up her half of the paperwork.

"I guess it is." I answered as I picked up my share of paperwork, stuffing it back into the folder I had brought.

"I hope you have a nice life John"

"And you Mary, really." And I did mean it. So we shook hands, one very last time and I walked away.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Sherlock's P.O.V

The violin was something Sherlock cherished deeply. The way the bow is his hand and the violin resting against his cheek all felt so natural. He learned from an early age how to play and after about 3 weeks of lessons, he was able to compose. He had wrote many songs but his favourite had to be the waltz he had written for John and Mary's wedding. It seemed just like yesterday yet, it also felt like an age ago. Composing helped him think and now more then any, was a time to think. He noteced when he played the song, Ms. Hudson's tempo changed to a waltz. For some reason, that made him smile. The though of someone dancing to his music always repulsed him, but this time it just seemed right.

A knock on the door stopped him in his trackes. He knew straight away it was John. It took nearly all his strengh not to bound down the stairs and just look at him. He continued playing his violin, putting all his emotion into it. He had never hugged anyone, he realised. He had been hugged by others but never had he given someone a hug. But he wanted so so much to give John an embrace. The tempo of his violin sted up, like his heartbeat. The creak of the stairs confirmed that it was in fact John. John seemed to be taking forever to climb the stairs.

Sherlock unconciosly started to play along with the rhythm of John's foosteps. Images and thoguhts racing through his head at the same time. The agreement between Mary and John was that Mary would get the house and keep their child while John would get all the back savings and the car. The deal worked out to be about the right amounts. Mycroft would have laughed at him, thinking of things so imature and childish. The thought of Mycroft gave Sherlock a hard, cold feeling in his stomach. He wondered what Mycroft would make of the feelings he felt. All these thoughts happened in Sherlock's minds in a split second. The song he was playing was a short little tune he was working on and when he reached the climax, the last and final note, the door swung open.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

John's P.O.V

"Can you go any faster please?" He leaned in and asked the taxi driver. He had been stuck in this taxi for the better part of 20 minutes and he was quickly getting sick of it. He knew Sherlock hated when he was late and he himself, hated it as well. The thought of Sherlock made the hairs on the back of his neck rise "Sorry, the traffic is mental today." The taxi man's voice cut through his thoughts like a knife to butter. When he had a bit of time to himself, and it was often, he always tried to imagine his life without Sherlock. He might have been living by himself in a small flat or even have moved in with his alcoholic of a sister. He would have kept going to his therapy sessions and would maybe spend the days, staring out through a window. These scenarios would come to mind but he could never picture his life, a life he thought was worth living and he would love without Sherlock, ever.

The taxi lurched forward and he was thrown back into the well worn seat. He rubbed his head but didn't lean forward any more. They were finally getting a move on and every second was ticking down.

The taxi pulled up outside 221B and John was out of the taxi before it had even stopped.

"Oi! You know you gotta pay mister" Shouted the taxi driver out of the window. John threw a 20 pound note through the window. It nearly hit the driver in the face.

"But mister, its only-"

"Keep it." The driver didn't need to be told twice and shot off down the road. John turned to face the door. The door with the man who had become his life, right behind it. He stepped forward then hesitated. What if Sherlock didn't want to see him? What if he was busy? What if... There was no point thinking about the what-ifs, he would have just go upstairs. That wasn't too hard of a job now was it? He could hear Sherlock's violin playing a fast tune, similar to his heartbeat. He reached the door and went inside. The hallway smelled of the familiar tea and journey. They had so many journeys together, him and Sherlock. All the crimes solved all the lives saved. It was really the most exciting life he could ever imagine.

He was on the second step of the stairs when Sherlock's music changed. It was a slow song, one that once you heard it, it was hard to forget. He could imagine him standing there by the window, playing. The way his face was clear and thoughtful as he looked down onto the street at if it was his kingdom. He hesitated for a split second but quickly started moving again. It was the Waltz Sherlock had written for his and Mar- or should I say Alanna's wedding. I was at the top of the stairs when I noticed that Sherlock faltered. He never faltered in his music, never not once. He must know I was here. He then made up his mind. He opened the door and stepped inside.

The room was the same as it always was, with it's sofa and small table, bullet holes in the wall. The two small armchairs where he and Sherlock always sat and there he was, standing playing the violin like his life depended on it. Oh how beautiful he was, standing so regal and tall, like he owned the world yet was still a a small wheel in a much bigger machine. His legs slim but strong, his arms moving with the violin like it was part of him. He really was beautiful. And then he turned around.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Sherlock's P.O.V

I looked at John and he looked at me. We both observed each other for what felts like hours but must must have only been a few seconds. I was the one to break the silence that hung between us.

"So it's done then?" I asked, my tone harder then I had intended.

"What?" John asked, looking like he had just woken from a strange dream. His eyes sent shivers down Sherlock's spine. They were like the colour of the sea on an Autumn's day. With its blues and greens and greys it was the perfect mixture of colour.

"Your divorce, is it done?" I asked this time with a softer tone.

"Yes, yes I'm now a free man! Ready to face the world and all it's challenges." He said this almost as if he was in a dream, a land caught between fantasy and reality. He thought of the song Bohemian Raspody and how John sometimes embodied that song as if it was his life story. Sherlock turned back around to look back out at the window and started playing again. It would be a matter of seconds before Ms. Hudson came upstairs with her tray of tea as she always has and asked John every question under the sun.

"Are you writing again?" asked John, from his tone of he was still standing where he was. As he talked he moved over to his armchair and sat down with a tired sounding thump.

"No just playing thought old-" He was cut off mid sentence by the door bursting open and a very excited looking Ms. Hudson coming in.

"John oh John how are you, you must be devastated. I never really liked that Mary whats-her-name..." She proceeded to tell John all about how he was being miss treated and how she was probably cheating on him. She also bombarded him with many of the questions he had devised she would say. This went on for about 20 minutes in which Sherlock just though and played. The violin's soothing sounds letting him forget that the potential love of his life was sitting right behind him. John went on about the court case, how the judge was fat, how the building was plain and that the guard there looked like he had just been given the worst news of his life. When Ms. Hudson finally realised she had left her dinner in the oven she finally left, giving them peace and quiet. Sherlock asked the question he was fearing to ask all this time. He turned placing his violin down on the table and picking up his now cold cup of tea. He sat across from John as he always had.

"Will you be moving back in here or will you be finding a new place?" He asked, schooling his featured into a cool and calm almost uninterested look. The look John gave Sherlock was in that moment was full of love. Silence stretched out in front of them, its warm embrace hugging them both. It was a good minute before John finally answered.

"Of course Sherlock, I will never leave your side."


End file.
